Epistles [Book 1]: Mr. Nobody | Complete

13

Dear Mr. Nobody,
Nothing can last forever. Not even you. At some point, things took a turn for the worst. All that time I had spent slipping in and out of reality. Can you tell when? I suggest that you stop reading from here. I thought that I had healed, that my life had somehow restored itself but it didn't. It was the calm before the storm; the last good day. Why? It was all downhill from there. Oh, this is my favourite part. Our story seems to be wrapping up, doesn't it?

13

Day Twelve.
07-05-2015

"I'll advertise, I'll find a way to make people interested," I suggested, "Just... please."

Mr. Reynolds stared at me with discontent.

"You really won't give up, will you?"

I shook my head.

"Well then," he sighed, shuffling a few loose pages together, "I'm not the one you need to convince."

He was about to walk off when I stopped him.

"Who, then?" I blocked the door, insisting.

He grumbled, "Take it to the board."

Mr. Reynolds pulled out a slip of paper and stuck it out toward me.

I removed my hand from the door frame as he brushed past me.

I had met up with him in the gathering room, usually used for all the tour guides, for one reason only.

I wanted the folklore section of the museum up and running again.

Will had made it clear that he wasn't too fond of the idea but he had said it himself- he wasn't the one I had to convince.

I read the number on the paper, most likely belonging to the president of the board. I felt anxious, given that I wasn't in the best position to run an operation like this. But no one had to know that. Plus, I needed to redeem myself from my mishap at the festival. Although it had been two months, it was still engraved in my mind.

I left the meeting room and began making my way down the corridor. I didn't focus on anything but the digits written on the paper.

"Geez!"

A familiar voice yelled as I crashed into someone. On impact, the paper went flying out of my hands.

I looked up to see Michael.

He had a scowl on his face which quickly turned to a pleasant expression when he saw me.

"Look who it is," he teased, "And what has she done to herself, now?"

I gave him a look of disgust, "You saw me yesterday. All week, actually."

"Mm-hmm," he nodded, "And it is never enough."

I ignored him and my eyes shot to the floor. The paper was right under his foot.

I also noticed that he wasn't holding anything. Did he walk into me on purpose?

"Move, Michael," I folded my arms and furrowed my brows.